Counter Strike is a shitty game
by TeostraX
Summary: 2p!America x 2p!Russia PWP - with Russia bottoming. Allan is frustrated because of Counter Strike, so he wants sex with his boyfriend.


**A/N: **Yo, this is pretty much PWP. Just that. 2p!PWP. The world needs more of that shit.

2p!America is Allan, and 2p!Russia is Nikolai/Kolya. Enjoy.

* * *

„Let's fuck man."

Nikolai looked up from the newspaper he had been occupied with. Gasoline's gettin more expensive. _Again_. Damn it. „Pardon?"  
Allan gave him a wary look from across the room. He had been sitting in that corner of his all night, playing Counter Strike. Did you know that it's hard to keep focus on an article about some village's cow murderer when there's _someone _screaming „FUCKING CAMPERS!" at a laptop screen _all the damn time_?

„I'm done with this shit for the rest for my life, and now I'm horny."

„I remember when you tried to assemble that IKEA table. You said the exact same."

Allan turned his head to look at the wall in front of him, grinning. Obviously indulging in the memories. „I remember you bending over that exact same table as well."  
He got an annoyed sigh in return, and a mumbling of something like „after _I_ had assembled the damn table..."

„Are we fucking now, or what?"  
Nikolai didn't really respond, until he had that damn American straddling his lap all of the sudden. So he had, for better or worse, to set his newspaper aside. He took a frustrated glance at his cup of tea he didnt finish. Its gonna get cold. What a waste.

Said damn American quirked an eyebrow at him. „So?"  
The corners of Nikolai's mouth twitched and he wrapped his arms around the other's waist, staring at his chest. „Well, whatever. We can fuck. I wasn't really going to do something anyways."

Cheering and smiling widely, Allan hopped off of him, taking both of Nikolai's hands in his and pulling the other up from his seat on the couch, with him to the bedroom (who stumbled after him EXCEPTIONALLY GRACEFULLY.)

Allan rushed to the bed, practically jumping on it, whilst Nikolai took the time to close the door like a reasonably thinking being, asking himself, where does that boy have all that energy from at this ungodly hour? He eyed the boy again. The boy who was patting the free space beside him enthusiastically while somehow trying to take his pants off with the other, looking rather awkward struggling on top of the sheets.

Drugs. Perhaps it was drugs. And whatever it was, he needed that stuff too. Maybe Nikolai should ask him about it? It would be profit for both of them.

Instead he sat down on the violated space next to Allan, trying to calm the boy down by taking his face and planting a kiss on his lips. Al was sitting up from his half-lying position in which he had been trying to kick his pants off – why was he even getting rid of trousers instead of the shirt, isn't that the first step usually? - wrapping his arms around Nikolai's neck and kissing him back passionately, seemingly snapping out of his hyper-mode.

Nikolai broke the kiss to lift his arms when he felt warm hands run under the hem of his shirt, slowly pulling it off, tossing it across the room. He then laid down onto the sheets, because it was fucking _cold_. Heating bills are a cruel thing.

Allan pulled his own shirt off and kicked of his pants completely before leaning over Nikolai again, smothering him, and then entertaining himself with sucking on the other's lower lip. He received tiny sounds from the back of his partner's throat as answer.

Letting go off the lip, he moved to the jawline, planting kisses there, then moved to bite the ear and pushed his legs against the other's groin, receiving another surpressed groan.

„And what are those pants still doing there, man?"

Breathing out harshly, Kolya answered: „Oh you know, sane and decent people usually wear – ah -mph, pants.", before grabbing the other boy roughly through his boxers and rubbing harshly.

„Fuck, Kolya". Allan couldn't help himself but grind against the attacking hand a bit before loosing it completely and unceremoniously ripping his partner's fly open and pulling the cloth down just enough so he could lean farther down and grind against the groin.

Nikolai meanwhilst kept his hands occupied with running them against Allan's smooth skin, experimentally rubbing the nipples with the pads of his thumbs. Of course, he received the appropriate lewd sounds in response. The boy was always so responsive, it was a blessing.

He eventually grew tired of being humped dryly, so he pulled down the other underwear a bit farther down. Allan didn't get the hint. He was too much _into_ his doings.

„Hey, don't get off without me, alright?", Kolya mustered in his best sarcasm-dripping voice he could offer. Seeing he had to surpress moans and groans of sexual frustration, this attempt failed succesfuly.

Biting his lip, Allan (fucking _finally_, thought a certain Russian) wasted no time in getting rid of both their remaining clothing and retrieved a bottle of lube from the bedside table. Nikolai bend his legs and pulled them back until he felt his feet against his butt. And he waited, staring at the ceiling. And waited. A solid 15 seconds of nothing happening.

„What are you fucking doing down there." It wasn't really a question. More of an statement. He lifted his head to eye the American sitting there with a... dreamy expression?

„Huh? I was just appreciating the view, _sorry._" Allan moved forward to kneel between the Russian's legs, pressing a lubed finger against his anus, rubbing.

„Wha- hh -tever, didn't know you were able and willing to appreciate som-" he cut off, just to surpress a groan when he felt a finger wriggling in. It sounded like a whimper instead – no, not a whimper, he couldn't acknowledge to himself that he had produced such a sound. Let's say, it was the sound of intense breathing out. Better.

There was a second finger almost immediately. Not that the boy's impatience was much of a bother for Nikolai. He was used to some stuff. The fingers thrusted in and out a couple of times, before withdrawing completely, there was squishing of more lube, and then they were back and _fucking pushing dead-on against his prostate all of the sudden and that was a whimper theres no denying now Oh god -_

„You did that on purpose, you, fuck – haah -" Nikolai felt his stomach do a strange flipping thing when he looked back at the Americans lusty expression. He shut his eyes and tilted his head to the side to moan into the pillow.

Then there was a third finger, which wasn't too noticeable, but more noticeable than the other ones. Allan didn't spent much time on fingering Nikolai anymore though, he instead withdrew his fingers, rubbing the excess lube on Nikolai's cock (just an excuse to hear the other moan loudly at the sudden attention there), and slowly coated himself.

Instead of pausing and directly plunging into the other though, he leaned forward and licked the Russians scarred neck, only to have his chin grabbed roughly and his face shoved back.

„Fuckin hell Allan, you're not going to be obnoxious again, are you..."

He trailed off when the other gently took his hand and licked the pads of his fingers.

„It's called _teasing_, you know.", Allan whispered, smiling a cheshire smile and leaning down to engulf one nipple in his mouth.

„Fucking _hell_, Allan-" The man couldn't help but arch against the hot mouth.

Al looked up briefly, saying, „You're repeating yourself, bro", and then returning to his ministrations.

Nikolai wanted to respond so many things right now. He wanted to tell that boy to not fucking sass him. He wanted to tell that boy also that teasing actually is supposed to come in before the part where you finger somebody. Instead, he arched his spine again and moaned an incoherent Russian swear when he felt the boy's tongue piercing rub against his abused skin.

When the Russian looked properly teased, Allan smiled and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. The affection seemed weirdly out of place, but that was okay, because he was shoving his dick up the others ass in the next moment. It's all about sexual balance.

There was also a loud ripping sound along with a hoarse shout. Nikolai had accidentally ripped the bed sheets in his fists from the shock of being penetrated so abruptly and _entirely_. Today seemed to be his lucky day, he had always hated these bed sheets.

Al threw his head back, gasping, and braced himself on the headboard to begin rocking cautiously, listening to the groans from beneath him and searching for any too pained sounds. When there were none, he slipped out almost completely, angled himself right, slammed back in to hear a loud shout and a thickly accented version of his name.

He could probably find the Russian's prostate blind, deaf and during sleep by now.

Sitting up a bit, Allan lifted the leg on his right up and over his shoulder to thrust in more deeply and forcefully, listening to the sweet moans he was causing, absently tilting his head to nibble at the thigh. He glanced down at the other to see his face contorted in bliss, his hands fisted into the sheets as if he was holding on for dear life.

After a few more thrusts, Al leaned forward to nip on the scar tissue of Kolya's neck again, savouring the gasps and groans.

Nikolai on the other hand began trembling from the stimulation, wrapping his arms around the other body and vainly trying to lick his dry lips, being so awfully fucking _close _but not close _enough_. He threw his head back, panting harshly and trembling harder when Al found that one god damned weak spot somewhere beneath his ear, trailing his fingernail's down the back, leaving angry red marks.

Al finally took pity on the man and his struggle for release and began vigorously jacking the other's neglected cock, and Kolya finally felt himself topple over the edge with a throaty scream, gritting his teeth then as he felt cum splatter all over his own stomach and upper chest.

Al followed soon after with the help of the constriction around his dick with a loud cry, then pulling out, collapsing next to the other.

After a few minutes, Nikolai turned to him.

„That was amazing." he paused, thinking. „You must be extremely shitty at Counter Strike."  
„Shut the fuck up, bro."


End file.
